Tender Is the Flesh

by Agustina Bazterrica

It’s meat with a first and last name.

This has me feeling dread in the furthest reaches of my chest. *2nd time this is said in the book, but the only phrase thus far to be repeated in similar context to the black market. Foreshadowing?

Time stifles in this place. The hours and seconds stick to the skin, pierce it. Better to ignore its passing, though that’s not possible.

AHHH. I could physically feel/imagine this. Bone chilling, TWISTED shit. **context; this is in the nursing home, and he’s watching his dad stare blankly through the window out at the garden, no recognition in his eyes for the black bird perched on a branch**

The words are there, encapsulated. They’re rotting behind the madness.

CHILLS

There’s a sharp, penetrating smell to the resting cage sector. He thinks it’s the smell of fear.

I wish i could display the level of "what the fuck" im feeling rn.

He valued the answer and didn’t ask for an explanation because Sergio’s words are simple, clear. They’re words that don’t have sharp edges.

Eee im feeling so many things rn